


Dangerous Places

by istie



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Podfic, Podfic Length: 10-20 Minutes, could be read as shyan, don't go to ghost towns they're dangerous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-11 07:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16471172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/istie/pseuds/istie
Summary: The ghoul boys venture to a filming location, and things go awry.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had a yen to write some angst. It just kinda happens sometimes. Apparently, I have a thing for making people fall through floors.

They’re scoping out a possible filming location in West Virginia, an old mining camp in a ghost town along New River Gorge: it’s late, and the light is dying, but this is their last stop before they get to go back to the hotel and collapse into bed, order pizza, and watch a stupid movie.

The universe has other ideas, though. 

The park rangers had told them it wasn’t the safest out there, but that if they used their good sense they would be fine: check every stair, stay along the edges of the floor, look for dark spots, don’t be stupid.  They have emergency supplies with them, including food, flares, and mobile battery packs for their phones – none of which they expect to need, of course, but Ryan overprepares for every situation.

As Ryan watches the ground crumbling under Shane’s feet and his friend disappearing into the darkness with a yell, the thought crosses his mind that he’s really glad he overprepared this time.

Once the dust settles, he crawls closer to the hole in the floor, testing each board gingerly before putting his weight on it.  He peers over the edge and calls down, “Shane?”  No answer.  A couple small rocks dislodge and tumble down with a clatter; Ryan freezes and waits a minute, then tries again.  “Shane?  Are you okay?”  He waits another thirty seconds and is about to call out one more time when he hears a faint groan from … a ways down.  His heart sinks.  “Shane!” he yells, “Are you hurt?”

“Ah…” comes Shane’s voice from below, “y-yeah … yeah, my ankle’s twisted at least, it hurts a _lot_.  And I … hit my head on the way down, I’m really dizzy, I… oh… oh Jesus Christ…”

“Are you bleeding?” Ryan calls, forcing himself to breathe slowly.  Him panicking would _not_ help Shane in this situation.  “Can you move?”

“I … can’t tell if I’m bleeding, I … think probably I am, yeah, but my hands are all scraped up and tingly, and I can’t see anything, it’s pitch fucking black down here … I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to move yet, my head feels like it’s swimming.”

“Okay,” Ryan says, “okay, that’s okay.  Keep talking to me, okay?  I’m gonna call for help, but I want you to keep talking, yeah?  You got that, buddy?”

“Oh… yeah, sure…”

Ryan pulls his phone out of his pocket while Shane starts rambling and swears at it.  No service.  “Shane?”

“Yeah?”

“I gotta go out of the house, the reception is crap.  Keep talking; I’ll be back in just a minute.”

“You got it, pal…”

* * *

Shane is in utter darkness.  He’s not sure he can even move his legs; there’s something on top of them, and he can’t… he can’t quite tell what it is.  A big rock, maybe?  Or a bunch of dirt?  It’s just a heavy weight on his jeans, and his hands are still tingly so nothing feels right.  If he leans back, he can rest his head against a rock, but the angle is really weird and it’s uncomfortable, and his head is starting to throb.  He thinks he has his eyes open, but to be honest, he doesn’t know for sure. 

He’s letting his mouth run, just saying whatever comes to mind, still with it enough to know that if he stops talking and falls asleep, he might not make it out the other side.  His body is flooding his brain with too many chemicals for him to really _clock_ that he might die: it’s just a vague acceptance of the possibility as theoretical.  What do you do when you’re seriously injured?  You stay awake.  That’s what you do in the movies. 

He feels like he’s floating.  The pain is going away.  He smells … he smells something sweet?  And he sees something, in the distance, someone’s there …

* * *

Ryan, having made contact with the outside world, crawls back to the edge of the hole.  “Shane?”

“Hi, Ry…” Shane breaks off into giggles.

_Oh, shit._   “What’s so funny, Shane?”  Ryan glances back over his shoulder to the cell phone on the floor, which he’s left where it gets reception.  He might be calling back to get some more advice, at this rate.

“N-nothing, it’s just … ha ha … life, you know?  Existence.  Funny shit.”

“Sure, buddy, whatever you say…”  Ryan frowns.  “Do you feel any different?”

“Nothing hurts and everything’s coming up Milhouse!”  He’s definitely in shock.  “Also it smells like cotton candy down here.”

“Uh— what?  What do you mean, it smells like cotton candy?”

“I think the carnival’s coming to town, Ryan, you should come ride the Ferris wheel with me.  Why are you so far away?  Don’t you want to hang out?”  Shane’s voice has slipped from giddy to heartbroken in a matter of seconds. 

“Of course I do, man, it’s just a long way down there.  I’d ride the midway with you if I could.  The rangers are on their way to help you get out, but it’s gonna take a while, so you gotta stay with me, okay?”  Ryan worries at the corner of his bottom lip while he waits for Shane to answer.  It takes his friend so long to say anything, though, that Ryan calls, “Shane?  You still there?”

He’s not at all expecting Shane’s response to be a _sob_.  “Uh, Shane _?  Shane?_   What’s wrong?”  He grabs the flashlight from his belt and slowly shines it down the side of the hole, trying to find Shane without blinding him.  He’d meant to do this as soon as he got back, but Shane’s sudden mood shift had thrown it from his mind. 

“I… I can’t feel anything, I’m stuck, I can’t move,” comes Shane’s shaky voice, thick with tears.  “I’m scared, Ryan, I’m scared, and they’re coming to get me _, they’re coming to get me—_ ”

“ _Whoa_ there, Shane,” Ryan interrupts, “what are you talking about?  No one’s here but us, it’s just us.”  His light is still travelling down the wall – which is just open rock and dirt.  Shane is at least thirty feet down.

“No, no, Ryan, I _see_ them, there’s people down here too, they’re coming towards me, they want to— they want to— oh God, Ryan, they’re all around me but they’re not _doing_ anything, they’re just _standing_ there—”

“Shane, there’s no one down there, your eyes are playing tricks on you!” Ryan shouts, but Shane isn’t listening.

“You want to hurt me?” he yells.  “Do your worst!  I’ll— I’ll— I’ll fight you!  You can’t beat me, I’m not afraid of—” He shrieks, then subsides into sobs.

It’s all Ryan can do not to throw himself down the hole.  He doesn’t know if this is usually how shock goes, but regardless, it’s tearing at him.  “Shane… Shane, are you okay?”  It’s a pointless question, but he doesn’t know what else to ask.  His flashlight beam has found the bottom of the hole, but not Shane – Shane must be hidden behind (or under) one of the outcroppings of rock or broken wood.  It’s closer to fifty feet down, he thinks. 

Ryan just hears Shane crying for a few moments, then: “You can’t have him.”  Shane’s voice has changed again: it’s dark and angry now, but Ryan can still hear the tears.  “You _can’t have him,_ you’ll have to go through me!  I don’t care _what_ you do, I don’t, I don’t, I—”  Shane screams, and doesn’t stop: he screams for what must be thirty seconds before cutting off abruptly, like he’s choking.  Ryan, frozen in terror, thinks he can hear scratching, then a thud. 

He takes a deep breath to bring himself back to reality, then calls, “Shane, can you hear me?”  Silence.  “Shane!”  Ryan is pretty damn sure this is _not_ just shock, but … as far as he can tell, there’s no one else down there.

Shane has started crying again: it sounds deep and painful, like he’s gasping for breath.  “You can’t… have him… I won’t let you… take me instead, you motherfuckers…”  A long, low moan, half-muffled as if it’s through his hands, then silence.

Ryan counts to five.  Ten.  Then he calls out, trying not to let his voice betray his fear: “…Shane?”

Another long pause.  Ryan is about to run for the phone when he hears, “Ring around the rosy … pocket full of posy … ashes, ashes … we all fall … down.”  Shane’s singing.  His voice is thin and quavering, and Ryan can’t tell if he’s suppressing laughter, tears, or both. 

“He’s lost it,” Ryan mutters.  “Shane?” he calls.  “Shane, buddy, can you hear me?”

“Everything hurts, Ryan,” Shane says with a sob.  “Everything hurts and I can’t breathe.”  He coughs.  “I can’t… Ryan—”  His voice breaks.  “Ryan, am I going to die?”

Ryan, too, feels like he can’t breathe.  “N-no, Shane, you’re not going to die.  Help is on the way.  You’re gonna be okay, we’re gonna get you to a hospital, we’re gonna fix you up, it’ll be fine.  You’ll be okay.”

“I can’t…”  Another cough.  “The lights are coming back, they’re everywhere, I can’t… I can’t see…”  He sounds like he’s fading.  “I…” A gasp for air.  “Ry…”

“Shane, c’mon, stay with me.  Slow breaths, buddy, slow breaths.”  Ryan’s heart is pounding, and he’s pretty sure he’s made his palms bleed by pressing his fingernails into them.  “You’re okay.”

“Rock…a-bye, ba…by… in… the tree… top…”  The nursery rhyme fades into soft whimpers and the quiet sound of scratching, and Ryan just lies there on the floor, listening.  As long as Shane’s making noise, he’s alive.  He’s clinging to that.  His best friend isn’t making _any_ sense, but he’s alive.  Everything else can be dealt with later.

Ryan counts five minutes of the muted moans – punctuated by occasional sing-song phrases and some extremely disturbing mentions of people coming for his eyes – before he hears the sound of a helicopter approaching.  He reaches around into his back pocket to grab the flare gun he’d stored, aims it out the open door and into the sky, and fires.  A couple minutes later, he points the paramedics decked out in safety harnesses at the hole, and then backs up against the wall, staying as close as they’ll allow him.

They rappel down into the hole, shovels and picks strapped to their backs along with first aid gear, and Ryan hears the squawk of their radios mix with the thunder of the helicopter blades – and, at one point, he thinks he hears Shane scream again.  About ten minutes later, when Ryan thinks he’ll never hear anything again, he sees a headlight coming up out of the hole – followed by a stretcher, tied to the man climbing out first.  Strapped onto the stretcher is his best friend, covered in dirt, bleeding in several places.  He’s conscious, though, and as both paramedics exit the pit and pick up the stretcher, he looks at Ryan with a stare of pure, unadulterated terror, and Ryan sees that there are scratches all around his eyes.

Ryan climbs into the helicopter after them.  They won’t let him touch Shane, so he just sits there and tries to send comfort through his eyes as they fly through the deepening twilight.

* * *

When they touch down, Shane is immediately whisked into the ER, and Ryan sits in the waiting room after scrubbing himself down as well as he can in the hospital washroom.  He only waits half an hour before a nurse comes to get him and shows him to Shane’s bedside.  He’s covered in bandages – particularly his head and his hands – and the lower half of his left leg is in a cast.  He’s asleep, with an IV drip in his hand and a pulse monitor on his finger.  Ryan sits, heavily, in a chair.

“What… _happened_?” he asks the nurse.  “He just went … crazy.”

The nurse hums.  “We’re still waiting on toxicology reports, but… Up in those hills, there’s old pipelines, and waste from the mines, and God knows what else.  My bet would be that collapse broke something, and your friend got a huge dose of something nasty, and coupled with the pain of the broken leg and the nasty bang on the head, not to mention being in pitch dark – he probably started hallucinating pretty bad.”

Ryan feels small, and scared, and sad, thinking about Shane trapped and terrified and hurting.  “Is he gonna be okay?”

“He should be,” the nurse replies.  “He wasn’t down there too long, and the physical injuries aren’t too bad, all things considered.  He’s in rough shape, but he’ll pull through.”  They check the chart, and nod.  “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes or so.  Call if you need anything.”

Ryan nods, and the nurse leaves.  He just sits there for a while, watching Shane’s chest rise and fall underneath the light green hospital gown, watching his eyes twitch lightly beneath his closed eyelids.  He’s about to move, stretch his legs and shift positions, when Shane’s eyes open – and he starts looking around, his eyes flitting back and forth with increasing alarm.  “Ryan?” Shane asks.  His voice is hoarse, raspy and grating.  “Ryan, where—”

“I’m right here,” Ryan says, leaning forward and putting his hand on Shane’s arm.  “I’m here, Shane.”

Shane immediately relaxes, his eyes focusing on Ryan and the alarm in his face (a deep furrow between his eyebrows) turning to relief (light crinkles around the corners of his eyes).  “Oh good,” he whispers, “they didn’t get you.  I fought them off.”

Ryan feels a huge lump in his throat.  “Yeah, buddy,” he says, scooting his chair closer so Shane doesn’t have to strain to see him, “you did.  We’re both safe now, so just rest, okay?”

“Okay,” Shane says, simply, like a little kid.  “You’ll stay, right?”

“Of course,” Ryan replies, smiling as much as he can.  “I’ll be right here.”

“Okay.”  Shane’s eyes slip shut again.  “Don’t forget to…brush your teeth, it’s…important…”

Ryan almost laughs out loud, but catches himself just in time: Shane is fast asleep, his breath even and his head tilting gently to the side.  He carefully brushes a stray bit of hair out of Shane’s face, and lets his hand linger just a little bit.  “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs, “not a chance.”

It might be his imagination, but he thinks he sees Shane smile in his sleep.


	2. Podfic

**Dangerous Places**

read by istie

Length: 16:54

[[mp3 download](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1kKUgvEaJj2hyThpQBl7ofYdEK0sQqTcN/view?usp=sharing)]


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